


Prince and His Protector

by Jui_Imouto_Chan



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Guard Markus, I'm Still Bad at Writing, Jealous Markus (Detroit: Become Human), Jealousy, Kissing, Lots of it, M/M, Making Out, Prince and Guard, Queen Amanda - Freeform, Royalty AU, and tagging, prince connor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-22
Updated: 2019-02-16
Packaged: 2019-08-27 19:49:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16708918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jui_Imouto_Chan/pseuds/Jui_Imouto_Chan
Summary: But Connor catches his gaze. The coin lands in his palm with a soft thump, then slides off onto the bedding when he angles his hand downwards. “I truly have no interest in any of the suitors I’ve been provided, but perhaps that is because I’ve yet to find one that lives up to my expectations. There’s a man who’s ruined me for any other, though he knows it not.”Markus’ face becomes pinched, eyebrows lowering and nose crinkling, jaw tense. “And he is not of the suitors?” he forces out, Connor’s lips’ corners twitching.“No, unfortunately.” Connor rises from the bed and moves closer to Markus, steps deliberate, though he’s sure Markus can’t tell past the jealousy blinding him. His guard stands beside the door, allowing Connor to press his hand against the wood to shut it while another slithers up Markus’ chest. Then the free hand joins it, Markus blinking down at him in confusion. “He’s been with me for so long, I’d been hoping to earn a confession from him, but he’s so stubbornly duty-bound and clueless to my affections.”





	1. Chapter 1

The Queen sends him off to his quarters, his personal guard following behind him with his usual laid back strides.

Connor sighs as he enters his chamber, light beaming through the window and illuminating the few specks of dust remaining after his servants’ cleaning. (Kara always has little Alice to help her, it’s no wonder the lovely duo manage to make the room practically shine.)

Connor kicks off his shoes beside his desk, tossing his coat to his guard to hang up. He undoes the first few buttons of his shirt, finally able to breathe. “Markus, I request your opinion.”

“I don’t have one, in the eyes of Sir Conan and the Queen.” Connor rolls his eyes at the usual response. Markus smiles, blue and green glimmering with amusement. Connor heaves a sigh and collapses onto his plush bed, sticking his arm in the air with his forefinger and thumb rubbing together, the other digits curled into his palm. His lids slide closed.

“Well, neither of them are here, now. In my eyes, your thoughts matter most. Tell me: what do you make of this marriage nonsense?”

Connor opens one eye, spotting Markus reach into his pocket for a small coin, flicking it over. “I’m not quite sure what you’d like me to say in regards to it.” Connor catches the coin in a single swipe of his hand, sitting up and rolling the currency over his knuckles. Markus’ eyes rove over Connor’s form discreetly.

But Connor catches his gaze. The coin lands in his palm with a soft thump, then slides off onto the bedding when he angles his hand downwards. “I truly have no interest in any of the suitors I’ve been provided, but perhaps that is because I’ve yet to find one that lives up to my expectations. There’s a man who’s ruined me for any other, though he knows it not.”

Markus’ face becomes pinched, eyebrows lowering and nose crinkling, jaw tense. “And he is not of the suitors?” he forces out, Connor’s lips’ corners twitching.

“No, unfortunately.” Connor rises from the bed and moves closer to Markus, steps deliberate, though he’s sure Markus can’t tell past the jealousy blinding him. His guard stands beside the door, allowing Connor to press his hand against the wood to shut it while another slithers up Markus’ chest. Then the free hand joins it, Markus blinking down at him in confusion. “He’s been with me for so long, I’d been hoping to earn a confession from him, but he’s so stubbornly duty-bound and clueless to my affections.”

Markus jolts under his hands, face slackening in surprise. But Connor can’t miss the yearning, the desire etched into the blue and green orbs staring intently at him. At his eyes, then his lips, then his hands—“Prince Connor, I do not think it would be appropriate for me to—“

“If we are talking about appropriate, then  _you_  certainly have no words to give.” Connor smirks as he presses his face into Markus’ neck, hands rubbing circles on the chest of his guard’s shirt and feeling the well-built muscle beneath, pectorals jumping under his fingers.

Markus tries to bring his hands up to remove Connor from himself, but the prince interlaces their fingers instead.

“Not only have you given me plenty of indecent thought and made me fall for you,” Markus feels a hot blush paint his cheeks at the words, his breath hitching and catching in his throat. Connor presses a soft kiss to the column, lashes barely concealing the  _want_  in his eyes, “—you’ve also been planning to overthrow the Queen with Lady North, Sir Simon, and Sir Josh.”

Markus’ heart stops beating. His entire body tenses, blood turning into ice in his veins. But Connor does not seem upset at all, the heat in his auburn pools not dispersing or turning cool.

“I don’t blame you. She is quite a horrid ruler, setting aside the needs of our people for the selfish desires of the noblemen and lords, greed influencing her every decision and action.“

One of Connor’s hands move up and out of Markus’ to caress his guard’s now-slack jaw, stubble grazing his fingertips while he peers at his lips.

“And she’s been attempting to marry me off to expand our land and increase her power, even if our subjects are barely getting by as is. You are in the right, Markus, and I shall devote myself to your cause as I have devoted myself to you,” Connor presses Markus’ hand over his chest, heart drumming against Markus’ palm, “—with my heart and soul. With my everything.”

Connor’s eyes stare into his with bottomless, genuine, and warm adoration. Markus feels like a figure of worship under the soft gaze, elation making his body thrum as the urge to pull Connor into a kiss comes to the forefront of his priorities.

Markus takes a deep breath to calm himself—“I love you, Markus.”—but his breath is stolen away in the face of Connor’s earnest confession.

It’s ironic that a man who preaches the power of words to any who’d listen finds himself tongue tied by the very weapon he so warns of. Markus gives up on speech for the sake of pulling Connor closer, bodies flush against one another’s, bringing their lips together with bruising force.

Connor melts into his embrace, Markus’ arm circling around the curve of his back to meld their bodies together more, mouths entangling to release into one another the passion they’d held back for so many years. Connor whines into the liplock. Markus feels his lungs burning, needing air, yet he would be fine with going delirious, with suffocating while tasting Connor on his tongue, forever imprinted on his lips—

Connor is the one to break the kiss, breaths heavy and uneven, grinning so beautifully that Markus already wants to dive back down for another kiss, and another, and yet another, and for as many ‘another’s as eternity would permit.

Connor seems just as eager, their mouths drawn together with a near magnetic pull. Connor seems to remember something, but every time he moves away to try and tell Markus, Markus presses back against him and muffles his words with his mouth.

“Need to…– meet with…–the others…— _Markus_.” Connor moans, fingers curled into the taller’s shirt.

Markus laughs against his lips. “They can wait.” he breathes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hate what I've written, but I'll post it anyway!  
> (Specifically the ending killed me, and it still sucks despite the fact that I'd rewritten it many, many times.)


	2. Chapter 2

Markus' shoulders raise minutely, tension building in his muscles. 

Something about this man has him seething.

Perhaps it's the way he slinks around Connor, arms slithering over his shoulders with fluidity. Connor shivers, and Markus can't tell if it's a good or bad sign. 

His head hovers near Connor's neck, the smooth column that Markus wanted to mark and claim as soon as Connor bared it in the throes of ecstasy, but Connor forbade him from it. In the moment, it was with a sultry smile and teasing tone that Connor'd said Markus would have to work for the right. But even so far gone, Markus knew that it was for his own safety, as he's the only one to have tended to Connor after the meeting with Amanda and would immediately be found as the source.

"You're quite the catch," the suitor declares, eyes curved into crescents as he cups Connor's cheek and caresses his freckles with a thumb. Markus' skin crawls and flares with heat. "I just might consider you."

He represses a growl. Consider him? _Consider him?!_

Markus forces himself to take quiet, deep breaths, wanting to look away but unable to. Maybe for fear of the man doing something untoward to Connor, or, worse yet on Markus' mind, Connor reciprocating. But then Connor's sable orbs move to gaze longingly in his direction, and Markus feels a wash of shame and disbelief at his own stupidity flood his body. The prince and his budding relationship had gone into bloom not so long ago, and even with the newness of this development, these feelings have been longrunning.

It was Connor, after all, who'd confessed his feelings to him. And the sincerity of the declaration, the alluring tone and words and the seductive smile, the cries of his name muffled against the fabric of the sheets, the pillow covers, against the meat of Markus' shoulder as they intertwined; the tender kisses and quiet moments of tranquility, the shared warmth and the affection they express in secrecy--it's all Markus', and Markus' alone. Connor had said their first was his first. His first kiss, his first time having intercourse. Markus is his first love, his first romance, his first lover. Those firsts are also all Markus' to cherish. 

It's selfish, greedy, to want to keep Connor to himself. To hide him away from all the suitors and the appraising eyes. But he can take solace in the fact that the sight of Connor falling apart from desire or smiling warmly in adoration are ones only Markus is privy to.

"Thank you very much, sir, but it appears I have an arrangement following closely to this one to attend to, and must prepare myself for it immediately, if you'll excuse me." Connor separates himself from the man with grace, tapping Markus' shoulder in a way that would appear impersonal to anyone else. Where he presses, however, is a spot still tender from where his nails had dug in during their intimate activities. "Come along, Markus."

They leave the room with nary a backward glance, Markus following his prince closely. He's surprised upon Connor stopping abruptly, the prince turning to him with an unreadable look on his face. Connor's eyes dart around their surroundings, and then Markus catches his lips quirking up before his back is pressed to a door nearby, leading into a room used for training guards once Connor turns the knob. 

"C-Connor--" Markus is silenced with a pair of plush lips pressing to his own. Connor must have been biting them while they'd been walking, as evidenced by their slight puffiness and vibrancy. Connor's body molds to his own, hands moving up to cradle his jaw and stroke his neck, Markus fighting against the urge to pull Connor closer, his hands instead moving to Connor's shoulders to move him away. "What's gotten into you? We could easily get caught in a place like this."

"Markus, it was so awful, having his hands on my body when they could have been yours," Connor admits, his thumbs brushing over stubble, frown drawing his lips down. 

Markus sighs, sliding his hands down Connor's arms to move to his flanks, then to his hips, pressing their pelvises flush. He leans down to rest his chin on Connor's shoulder, angling his head so he can whisper into Connor's ear, "I know, my love. I had to refrain from harming him and tearing you away, myself. But until we can make some change, we can only endure." Markus presses a soft kiss just behind Connor's ear, his lover's breath fanning over his neck in a soft sigh of disappointment.

"I love you, Markus." 

"And I, you, my prince."

Connor smiles against his nape, nuzzling in and inhaling his scent. They sit, basking in each other's presence, reveling in the warmth of the other's body, in the warmth the other sparks _within_ them. Markus takes in a sharp breath as Connor's mouth opens, the brunet enclosing it over a patch of skin and applying the slightest bit of suction, his tongue swiping softly over it. The guard's pulse jumps. 

"Connor, dearest," Markus breathes in sharply when the lighter-skinned man grazes his teeth over the flesh, pelvis rocking into his, "I'm not sure if this is the best place to do this."

His love hums. "I'm not quite sure if I care. Unless you don't want this right now, don't tell me to stop."

The problem here is that Markus wants this _too badly_. Every moment he can have this man is a good one, and he can't bring himself to tell Connor 'no' when the stirrings of _want_ pool low in his abdomen. Connor's fingers are again on the back of Markus' neck. He pulls away from the juncture of Markus' shoulder to gaze up at the taller, eyes shifting from caramel to syrup, molten and smoldering. Their lips meet, and it's not long before their tongues mingle, breaths shared; respiratory functions are secondary in the face of passion, the two of them unwilling to part. When they do, it's reluctant but momentary. 

The prince's legs tense and Markus only has but a split-second to ready himself for when Connor jumps up and wraps his legs around his waist, swinging around to get Markus stumbling over to the mats nearby. Thankfully, the weapons rack is closed and secured well, so there's little risk of harm to either of them. Markus groans into Connor's mouth as Connor knocks the backs of his knees with his heels along the way, sending the two of them crashing to the floor. They had parted before this, luckily, but as soon as Markus' back touches the mat, Connor is upon him, lapping at his tongue and mapping out his mouth. 

It's sloppy, but Markus doesn't quite care. He nibbles at the tip of Connor's prodding tongue, using his hands to press Connor onto his hips, rolling their lower halves together. Connor tosses his head back, baring his throat, and Markus is quick to latch on. "I desire you so greatly, Connor. More than anyone I've ever known before."

"Good," Connor gasps, bearing down on him with hands roving over his shoulders, squeezing them to try and ground himself. "Let it remain that way, then; I'd go mad otherwise."

Grinning, Markus nips at his skin, requesting permission, and Connor seems to debate for a moment before mouthing, 'To hell with it,' and nodding in acquiescence. He can't even regret his decision when Markus' teeth sink in. There's no holding back the moan that bubbles out of his throat, the fire that courses through his veins. 

"Please, love, take me again."

Markus turns them over, grabbing at Connor's wrists and forcing them down against the mats. "Are you sure you know what you're asking for, my prince? This is a dangerous game you're playing."

Ankles press into the muscle at Markus' lower back. "Show me."

A dark chuckle, and then Markus is making to remove Connor's garments, beginning with his navy overcoat and working the buttons that go to the middle of his blouse, his mouth at the hollow of Connor's throat and traveling down with every bit of skin made available to him. Connor puffs above him, fighting against Markus' hold weakly, wanting to touch, but Markus first wants to leave his mark on every surface of Connor's body, to prove that this man is his should anyone dare attempt to declare otherwise.

Blotchy pink marks follow a trail down and across Connor's chest. Just as Markus prepares to tongue one of Connor's nipples, which is already peaked and hardened, there's a click of a knob and a door opening. Markus flattens himself over Connor.

Connor's eyes are wide, breaths softened forcefully and held as long as he can manage. Seems the situation has caught up to him, sobered him. Their hearts pound against one another, seizing in fear with every step nearer to where they lay, barely concealed by seats and weapon containers nearby.

The footfalls move away, towards a rack across the room, a few items rattling. There's a pause, during which they stop breathing and don't even let themselves think, their heartbeats still so loud in their ears that they're afraid the person will hear them.

Finally, the person retreats, exiting the room with a huff. 

Connor shakily sighs. His arms wrap around Markus weakly, a tiny tremble wracking his frame.

"I was so scared." 

Markus leans his head down, kissing his skin softly. "I was, too."

The prince squeezes him tighter. "I don't want to lose you, Markus. I'd give my life first."

"No." _Never._ Markus wouldn't live if Connor were to die. Every bit of his beating heart stays with this man and leaves with him, too. 

"Then not even in death may we part, hm? Quite fine with me, then." Connor pushes Markus up, reaching for his discarded clothing. He's swift in getting the material up his arms and over himself, Markus mourning each bit of skin once more being concealed with a frown that borders on a pout. "Let's go."

Markus stands with his prince, adjusting his own clothing. "Where might we be heading?" he asks, stepping to stand behind Connor as they exit the training room. 

Connor sends him a secretive smile, the syrup orbs now delving into mocha and maybe even chocolate. Markus will need new paints to record these newfound hues, and maybe larger canvases to take in more of his latest muse. The sway of his hips as he walks is more pronounced, exaggeratedly so, and Markus is starting to get an idea of the answer to his question. "I told that pesky rat that I had arrangements to prepare for. The oils I need are in my chamber."

"Oils?" Markus thinks for a moment, then begins to choke on his own saliva, coughing. Connor laughs at him. Once he manages to get himself under control, he stares into his prince's eyes with an expression that displays how utterly gobsmacked he is. "You-You are downright _sinful_ , my prince. Even after all that happened in the training room..."

"I wanted to, ah,  _reward_ you for putting up with my selfishness all this time. And I promise you, I'll do my best to grant you peak satisfaction with your gift." The brunette winks and continues along, nearly leaving Markus behind. The guard rushes to catch up, thankful that by the time he does, they're just around the corner from Connor's bedroom. 

Markus turns the knob before Connor can, his chest pressing to Connor's back, and as soon as the door begins swinging inwards, he's crowding Connor into the room.

The prince spins around and wraps his arms around Markus' neck, pulling him down to connect their mouths. He kicks the door shut and then wraps that leg around Markus' lower back, the two of them moving back towards the bed.

Unheard by the two, a curse sounds behind the door before footsteps echo down the hall. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Connor: *wants to bone*  
> Markus: *wants to bone*  
> Jui: *does not want to deal with the two horndogs boning*
> 
> If I stall long enough, I have an excuse to just leave it before they actually do The Fuck.


End file.
